Tag Archives: bipolar ii

Why Me?

21 Mar

Dear Diary,

My mood slumped last night and I could feel it happening. That happy-go-lucky heart of mine lost its hypomanic sparkle and I crashed to a place where worry, anger and tears are the norm.  I read about Bipolar II Disorder and I wondered if that’s what’s wrong with me. My eyes drank in the words until I felt like my head was going to explode and then I slammed my laptop shut because I couldn’t stomach anymore. The list of symptoms I was reading, they were describing how I’ve been feeling! The depressive lows are becoming worse and I’m scared one day I will drown in my misery because the suicidal feelings are stronger and stronger each time the darkness infects my mind. I’m not saying I’m depressed now, just slightly miserable, but I know the depression is coming for me.

I woke up today and sighed because I had to contact the psychiatrist again. They said they would call yesterday, there was no phone call, and so it was up to me to see what the hell was happening. I realise when I look back now that I’m starting to get snappy with people again. I’m irritated at the slightest of things and that isn’t normal. I’m usually more pleasant in social circles, but my brain isn’t having any of that today. I guess I’m going to have to live like this until early May because they won’t give me medication until I sit through another appointment. Joy of fucking joys, I thought, this is just what I need! Now I’m going away on holiday none the wiser and wondering if any doctor will ever take my worries seriously.

Yes, I’m off to Heathrow next Tuesday and part of me can’t wait to get away from England because I need some time to pull myself together. I’m scared of a diagnosis like Bipolar because it’s a lifelong illness and even with medication, it’s always going to be there. I’m scared my life will never change for the better and most of all, I’m scared because I’ve always known I was different, but I never knew it was a mental illness making me act this way. I’d come to terms with the depression label a long time ago and now that process has to begin again because pitiful lows signal major depression, but coupled with those beautiful highs I’ve been experiencing, I feel completely out of my depth.

Yesterday I was convinced every time I stood at the bus stop a bus would come hurtling down the street right away because I was lucky. I had two days of this, Monday and Tuesday, where I felt on top of the world and I could do no wrong. I would stand at the bus stop for no longer than a few minutes and the transport would arrive and I’d be grinning manically. I even told a woman as we were standing there that I was lucky and she wouldn’t have to wait much longer. She was complaining because she had been standing there for twenty five minutes and I told her not to worry because each time I arrive at the bus stop the bus soon rolls in. Of course when that happened straight away, I became even more convinced I was on a lucky streak. I should point out I no longer feel this way at all. It vanished when I came back to Earth with a bump and now I’m left wondering what the heck I was doing Monday and Tuesday. I mean, I know what I was doing, but why was I acting that way?

I’ve never believed in luck before and I certainly don’t court it or babble about it when I’m depressed or my usual miserable self. So is that a symptom of Bipolar, a tie in with hypomania or am I losing my mind completely? I’m sitting here right now thinking about all these things and I don’t know what to do. Part of me doesn’t want to be patient and wait until May because I need this all to be sorted right this second. Another part of me wants to run away from this because I don’t want to be told I’m crazy and that’s how I feel, absolutely crazy.

I tried to talk to my mum about everything and she shot me down straight away. She said I shouldn’t be listening to other people because there’s nothing wrong with me and I need to get a job and get on with my life. If I was being honest I would say it crushed me to hear those words because all I wanted was a little support. But I’m not being honest though, so not one word bothered me and I don’t care what she has to say on the subject. I’m not lazy and I’m not selfish, I’m hurting, I’m scared and I feel all alone.

I’ve been told families are supposed to be supportive and if that’s the case, what the hell happened to mine? I think mines broken, just like my brain and I can’t fix either of them. But what I am going to do is try and focus on the positives. I’m going on holiday in six days and if this is Bipolar I guess I’m in good company. Perhaps there’s a reason why I’m far more creative and like to toss around words until I’m the puppet master of paragraphs? Whatever the reason, I’m thankful I find the writing process so therapeutic because it helps to post here; it really does, especially on a day like today.